Retributions
by searchn4somethinmore
Summary: A short fic, B/A eventually, that i plan to turn into a series. B/S to begin with. *NEW CHAPTER UP!* R/R please!
1. Chapter One

Buffy sat on the couch, sipping a cup of tea. It was late and she couldn't sleep. Willow was upstairs, so was Dawnie. Xander and Anya had long since gone home. Spike was who knows where, probably somewhere stirring up trouble. Buffy sighed inwardly. She really didn't want to be thinking of Spike. That whole *issue* was sometimes too much for her. It's not an *issue* her mind taunted-it's mind blowing sex that you love because it's the only time you actually feel. The once almighty Slayer-savior of the world, reduced to screwing a soulless vampire just to get an emotional high.  
  
How the mighty have fallen….  
  
Buffy was almost glad she was the only one up. She couldn't take their constant questions, hovering, pleads for her to become bright, bouncy Buffy- that perky girl they all knew and loved.  
  
That girl was dead the moment I sent Angel to hell, the moment my mother died and I couldn't stop it-me, who's stopped how many Apocalypses now? 5? And I couldn't save my own mother. How pathetic of me. That girl was dead the minute I clawed my way out of my own grave. Now I'm just a shell, Buffy thought. If death is my *gift* how long until I get to enjoy it? How long until I'm at peace? It's just so hard…  
  
Buffy suddenly longed for Angel with a ferocity that surprised her. She wanted to be in his arms, the only place she ever felt safe, felt happy. But that ship has long since sailed. He loves Cordelia now, Buffy reminded herself. Not me. He left me…. Left me when I needed him the most. And he never looked back.  
  
The annoying rational part of her brain told her that she had left him too. She had had a choice to make, and she had made it. She chose Riley over Angel, and now she would have to live with that decision. Back then it had seemed so easy, everything had seemed so clear. Yet now she would give up anything and everything to hear his voice again.  
  
Almost without thinking about it, she walked over to the phone and dialed, not caring that it was two in the morning, that she could very well be waking up the whole hotel. All she wanted was to hear his voice. After the seventh ring, someone picked up.  
  
"Hello?" a deep, sensuously smooth voice asked. A voice that always made Buffy feel as if she was the most important person in the world, as if nothing would ever happen to her. Angel's voice.  
  
"Hello?" he asked again. Buffy was afraid if she didn't say something she would start sobbing. She didn't know just hearing his voice would affect her so much. The tears started to flow then, against her will. Soon she was all out hysterical.  
  
"Who is this?" Angel asked, now with worry in his voice. "Cordy is that you?" "Hello?"  
  
Buffy put the phone down softly with a strangled sob. Grabbing her coat, she shut the door softly behind her, knowing that she needed to get out, also knowing with disgust that she would head to Spike's crypt, like a junkie who needed their next fix. She started to run, not caring how she must look-disheveled blond hair, puffy eyes, pink pajama bottoms, tiny Sunnydale U tank, brown trench coat. She didn't stop running until she had reached the crypt, and was pounding on the door. Within a minute Spike had thrown it open, knife in hand. Buffy threw herself into his arms and sobbed, knowing that she was weak, that it was easier just to give in…but no longer caring.  
  
She looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. "I need to not feel, Spike. Make me not feel dammit! Please!" Some part of her couldn't believe she was actually begging Spike to fuck her.  
  
He wrapped her in his arms, a smirk on his face as he carried her inside, and kicked the door shut behind him. The way he rationalized their odd relationship was that they were each getting what they wanted-he got to pretend that the Slayer actually loved him and wanted to be with him, not that bugger Angel, and she got to "feel" as she put it. But even Spike knew that things couldn't keep going on the way they were. It would kill him, and her too…  
  
  
  
  
  
*I'm trying to figure out where to go with this next. Please leave some reviews if you'd like me to continue. Thanks! * 


	2. Chapter Two

Buffy awoke the next morning with a splitting headache and a deep, penetrating sense of disgust. "Ohhh," she moaned, clutching her head, looking down to see Spike lying next to her. "That's great, Buffy," she thought to herself. "The minute something gets too overwhelming for you to deal with, you run to Spike's crypt like I don't know…a trained dog or something. I'm sure fucking Spike will really help your longstanding trust issues."  
  
She tried to get dressed without waking Spike but unfortunately he seemed to have an uncanny sense of what the Slayer was doing at all times, and sleepily propped himself up on his elbow, the thin sheet slipping down his defined chest. "Morning love, you wouldn't be thinking of runnin' out on me would ya," he leered at her, raising an eyebrow at her when she began to stand.  
  
Buffy rolled her eyes and clutched the fallen sheet to her. "Grow up Spike," she said, shaking her head. "For someone who's in his mid-hundreds, you have the maturity level of a 15 year old guy. A 15 year old guy who has been locked in an isolation chamber for all of his known life and has never seen a woman, let alone a naked one before."  
  
Spike clutched his chest, hands over heart. "How you wound me Slayer." He leaned over and began to nuzzle her neck, letting his hands wander over her body, caressing, groping, until he felt a sharp pain in his stomach as Buffy's knee met his crotch.  
  
"Bloody hell! Shit! What was that for??" Spike demanded as he convulsed on the ground.  
  
"Sun's almost up Spike. Normality awaits," Buffy called as she finished gathering her loose clothing and started to leave the crypt.  
  
"Bugger that!" he yelled after her. "You'll be back!" "You can't stay away, he thought to himself."  
  
"Not this time," Buffy promised herself. "Never again."  
  
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In Los Angeles, it was just after 5:00, and the city was starting to come to life. Angel woke up with a horrible hangover, not having had a good night's sleep since Conner was taken. With Buffy having died, and then coming back to life, and then almost dieing again, and now that haunting phone call in the middle of the night, something Angel was used to, the haunting phone call bit, after all he did run Angel Investigations. But there was something about the person on the other end, something familiar…Angel shrugged it off, figuring that sooner or later it would come to him, that is if he didn't have some kind of breakdown first.  
  
It was the middle of June, and Angel had given the A.I. gang some much needed time off, so he had the whole hotel to himself. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not. It was too quiet, too calm. He shook his head. "Since when did I start complaining about those things?" he wondered. He thought he knew why. Because life had never been especially kind to him-the one woman he ever truly loved in the entire fucked up universe he couldn't have, all the women that he could have he didn't want, and the only other person in the world the thought he might truly love was Conner, and even Conner was gone. He figured that if the only reason he had peace now was because the Powers that Be had something really good planned for him later. Angel sighed. He knew that he had to get of this city, it was making him insane. Let everyone handle their own problems for once. He needed a break. Actually, if he let himself be honest for once, he needed to see Buffy. Prove to him once and for all that they had done everything they could to salvage their relationship, that there really was no hope for a future for them. Because if there was, even the slightest bit, he wouldn't rest until he had Buffy in his arms again. She was his reason for being. She defined him. She made him whole. And he wouldn't rest until she was his again. His mind being made up, he grabbed his keys, not even bothering to pack, and made for the quickest route back to Sunnydale. The Hellmouth. Buffy.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
*Authors Note-More up soon I promise! * 


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